Betrayal Most Foul
by Knave Iespyk
Summary: Zartan is given an interesting proposition by G. I. Joe. Capture Cobra Commander.


Betrayal Most Foul

  
  


Cobra's Terrordrome, home of an evil organization determined to rule the world. It sounded tacky when Zartan thought about it, his boots sounding loud in the near empty halls. What really mattered, in the long run, if not having substantial wealth? The world wouldn't remember you a hundred years after you kicked the bucket, why not make a ton and enjoy yourself, ruling the world was not what it was cracked up to be.

  
  


Two guards in the blue livery of the lowest level of soldier stood at attention at the door to the main audience room. Immediately upon seeing him they stepped aside, granting him admittance to the room in question.

  
  


It was a simple room. A throne that was built to resemble a snake stood atop a dais. A red carpet, finely sculpted pillars and thin slits in the floor where a steel wall could be dropped in case of an emergency. Zartan was not the first to arrive, clearly.

  
  


At the foot of the stairs was Major Bludd, a toady of Cobra Commander's. He was exceedingly loyal but terribly inept in everything he did. Zartan often wondered how a man like him managed to get such a high rank. Knowing when to run away usually helped.

  
  


Standing impatiently beside the Major was Cobra Commander's right-hand man, Destro. The two possessed an interesting relationship. Cobra Commander liked Destro because he was a highly intelligent man who could come up with plans for him to steal. Destro needed Cobra Commander as a scape goat for when things went wrong. Destro scowled at the mercenary as he walked in, though if Zartan noticed he did not give any indication.

  
  


Lastly was Cobra Commander himself. He sat on the throne looking bored as ever. He was wearing the hood today, allowing Zartan to see his eyes. A female secretary stood near the throne, ready to write down any proclamations that Cobra Commander might make. Zartan had never caught the girl's name, nor was she of any importance to him.

  
  


"Ah, Zartan. So glad you could come so promptly," Destro sneered.

  
  


"I was detained by one of your soldiers. He had the nerve to say I wasn't who I am. I naturally had to have him disciplined. You ought to warn your men in the future that I'm not one to be toyed with," Zartan replied, fishing the man's wallet from his pocket. He flipped it open and looked at the driver's licence, "Harry Walsh."

  
  


"You murdered one of our guards? Commander, this is unacceptable. He must be punished," Destro began.

  
  


"Right you are, noble Destro. Maybe you'd like to punish him yourself?" Cobra Commander suggested.

  
  


Destro lunged at the cocky mercenary and found himself soon laying on his stomach with one arm twisted behind him. "Do you yield?" Zartan asked.

  
  


"Enough of this. I have called you here for a reason, Zartan. Earlier today I received word that G. I. Joe is setting up a small base near here. I don't know what the purpose is, but I want you to go and infiltrate it. Once we know how much they know about where we are, we'll come in and destroy it. We'll go with our usual price, I presume?" Cobra Commander said.

  
  


Zartan mused to himself. This mission should be easy, but it never hurt to up the ante a little bit. "Make it thirty thousand and you've got yourself a deal."

  
  


"What? Twenty-five and not a penny more," Cobra Commander retorted.

  
  


"As you wish, Commander."

  
  


* * *

  
  


The swamps were where Zartan and the Dreadnoks called home. Three beat up shacks next to a large pond, to be precise. Zartan had his own, naturally, and his siblings Zarana and Zandar had another one, leaving the five Dreadnoks (Buzzer, Monkeywrench, Ripper, Thrasher, and Torch) to the remaining shack. They didn't seem to mind, so long as they were given the freedom to stock it with beer and other such 'healthy' foods. Currently the Dreadnoks appeared to be away, as their vehicles were not tethered at the makeshift docks. Probably on another beer run, he thought to himself. Zandar was nowhere to be seen, but it was doubtful he was doing anything useful. Zarana, on the other hand, was doing some target practice on a nearby dummy of Cobra Commander. She barely noticed his passing as he went into his shack.

  
  


He tapped a button on his desk and a secret passageway opened itself up to him, which he took, descending into the depths of the Earth. When he reached the landing at the bottom, he opened a second door and took in the wide array of equipment at his disposal. Countless weapons lined one wall while his disguises took up another. In between the two was a long table and several backpacks, bags and other accessories that he might need. A simple infiltration of a small base wouldn't require very much. A pair of pistols, a bomb in case of emergencies, a flashlight, a walkie talkie, and the uniform of a low ranking G. I. Joe. Added to this were forged documents allowing him access to whatever facility it was, he could fill in the blanks on the way, and the mask of a civilian he'd seen on the street a while back. It was a convenient mask and one that the Joes had never seen before. It would do for the purposes of the mission. He double checked that his holographic emitter was in place, packed up his belongings, got changed and left.

  
  


"Nice disguise, Zartan," Zarana said from her seat on a stump, "going somewhere without telling anyone?"

  
  


"You're not my mother, Zarana, I'm not required to tell you where I'm going. But if you must know I'm going to infiltrate a Joe base. Alone," he replied.

  
  


"Like hell you are. I want a cut of the loot too. I'm going with you. I'll play back-up for you, just in case you get caught," she retorted, climbing onto the hydrosled behind him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Finding the G. I. Joe base was the easy part. Getting in, no doubt, would be the hard part. Zartan slowed the sled and finally dismounted. He double checked his gear and filled in the last few pieces of information onto the transfer papers. Zarana cocked her gun, as close to a 'good luck' as he'd get. He knew that she'd be ready if he needed her services.

  
  


The base in question was a tiny affair. It probably held about eight beds and a computer setup. A radar dish spun lazily on the roof. Outside was a Joe in a similar uniform, indicating his low rank. Zartan called out his assumed name, Harry Walsh, and handed over his papers. The soldier looked over them and then eyed Zartan. Finally he shrugged and stepped aside. "Report immediately to Flint. He'll want to see you before you begin your duties," he said.

  
  


Zartan gave a courteous nod and stepped inside. It was as he'd assumed it to be, except that there was a sectioned off area at the back presumably which doubtless possessed a desk and what supplies they needed out here. A few Joes were setting out their gear, Zartan could identify two of the four. Lady Jay was in the cot closest to the back of the room on the left side, with Flint probably taking the one on the other side, and Recondo was pulling a book out of his bag before reclining on the cot closest to the door on the right-hand side. Zartan politely said hi to everyone and knocked on the partition. A voice from the other side, Flint's, told him he could come in.

  
  


Flint took the papers from Zartan and looked them over, before throwing them into the garbage. "You can drop the disguise, Zartan," he said simply. Lady Jay moved in behind him and stripped him of his guns.

  
  


"Well done, G. I. Joe, you've caught me, but I won't be your prisoner for long," Zartan replied.

  
  


"Frankly, Zartan, we don't want you. More accurately we do want you, but not as our prisoner. We wish to conduct business with you. Have a seat," Flint said.

  
  


Zartan was more than a little confused, but was also intrigued by the route this conversation was going. He sat down in the flimsy chair provided and said, "You have my undivided attention, though it would be easier if your friend wasn't pointing her gun at me."

  
  


Flint gestured to Lady Jay and she quietly pocketed the gun. "We knew that if we set up a base here that sooner or later Cobra Commander would send you to investigate. So here's the deal. The public is getting restless with old snake face on the loose. They want G. I. Joe to bring him to trial, the problem is, we can't seem to hold on to him."

  
  


"He _is_ a slippery snake, isn't he?" Zartan said, leaning forward. "I take it then that you want me to deliver him to you, is that it?"

  
  


"That's it. We're willing to pay one million dollars if you can bring him to us, dead or alive."

  
  


"For something like this, it'll take more than any money you could offer. You're asking me to betray my friends, go against my morals..."

  
  


"You don't have morals, and the only friend you're interested in is money."

  
  


"Be that as it may, if Cobra were to find out about my involvement, they would be rather displeased. One might even go so far as to say that they would try to kill me. On the run from the law and from Cobra is not a pleasant prospect."

  
  


"Get to the point, Zartan," Lady Jay interjected.

  
  


"You've got spunk. I like that in a woman. What I want from G. I. Joe is to have my name cleared, plain and simple."

  
  


"What? You've got to be kidding me. There's no way that..."

  
  


"Hold it a minute, Lady Jay. You've got a deal, Zartan, but we expect more than just Cobra Commander if you're going to get your freedom. Give us Destro and the Baroness too and you'll get your wish."

  
  


Zartan mused this over. It was a win-win situation, really. If he was successful, he'd be able to work a deal out with Cobra to rescue their three leaders and thus make even more money off the deal. Cobra Commander would never believe G. I. Joe if they claimed that he was really the one behind it all, so he couldn't lose... unless he was caught by either side during the proceedings, but the likelihood of that was slim to nil. A grin on his face, he shook Flint's hand on it. "As an added bonus, Joe, I'd advise vacating the premises. Cobra Commander intends to level this place once I've found out why you're here," he said, retrieving his stolen guns from Lady Jay and returning to the Hydrosled.

  
  


* * *

  
  


On the way to the Terrordrome Zartan briefly explained what had happened inside the Joe bunker. Zarana had agreed that the plan was a shrewd one. She also promised to think of ways of carrying out the plan.

  
  


The mercenary told his sister to wait for him until he got back and made his way to the fortress gate. The two guards at the gate immediately stepped aside, doubtless having heard of the fate of officer Walsh. A third guard appeared from a side corridor and functioned as an escort through to Cobra Commander's meeting room. Nothing much seemed to have changed. Still there were Cobra Commander, Destro, Major Bludd and the secretary. Added to the group was heavy munitions expert Firefly. All conversation stopped at Zartan's entrance.

  
  


"Report, Zartan," Cobra Commander demanded.

  
  


"My mission was a complete success, Commander. I infiltrated the G. I. Joe bunker, learned what I had to know and disappeared. The Joes hope to lure Cobra operatives who will investigate the base and hand them over to the proper authorities. They got what they wanted," Zartan smirked, pleased with his tale of truths and half truths.

  
  


"Well done Zartan. Laura, arrange for Zartan's money to be delivered," Cobra Commander instructed the secretary. The woman nodded and escorted Zartan elsewhere.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Now then, sister, the Baroness will be your job. She's currently at her apartment in Chicago. I suggest you disguise yourself as G. I. Joe and bring her to the little motel on route ninety-two. I will meet you there with Destro and Cobra Commander. Once that's done, I will contact G. I. Joe and inform them of our success," Zartan said.

  
  


"Consider the Baroness caught."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Zartan returned once more to his equipment room, this time searching for the best disguise to infiltrate the Terrordrome. He couldn't go as himself, that much was certain, and any of the other higher ups could easily be proven false. Ergo, much like he had suggested to his sister, he would go in disguise as a Joe operative. A broad grin spread across his face as his eyes spotted the Flint mask, hanging on a hook. How ironic. A Flint mask to do Flint's dirty work.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The receptionist at the front desk of the Alabaster Apartments in Chicago, Illinois, looked up startled when she saw a gun-toting woman approaching her desk. Nervously she began rummaging around in her purse for the can of mace she carried for protection. "No need for that," the red head said, "I'm Scarlet from G. I. Joe. I've got a search warrant for apartment 509, if you'll give me the spare key."

  
  


Scarlet, Zarana in disguise naturally, handed over the forged search warrant as well as her identification card. This seemed to satisfy the receptionist who rifled through a key ring until she found the right key. This she handed over to Scarlet without any further questions.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The Baroness, meanwhile, was watching her favorite game show on the television when she heard the knock on the door. "Go away. I'm busy," she shouted, turning the volume on the tv louder, but also producing a small pistol. One did not attain her position of power without taking some precautions.

  
  


A moment later her fears were proven to be justified. The door swung open and a smoke grenade was thrown in. This was followed quickly by a bullet piercing through her expensive sofa. "Surrender now, Baroness, and we might go easy on you," Scarlet shouted.

  
  


"Never!" Baroness replied, blindly charging through the smoke to where she believed the source of the voice was. A kick to the ribs proved her estimation wrong. Scarlet followed up the kick with a karate chop to the back of the head, knocking the Baroness out cold. Scarlet touched her infrared goggles lightly before binding her prisoner.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Getting past security was the easy part. Zartan knew well the ins and outs of the Terrordrome, he just preferred taking the more direct route to get anywhere. The first thing he did, once he'd slipped through the air vents and landed in a storage room, was to find a computer and use the internal monitors to determine Cobra Commander and Destro's whereabouts. Of course, as fate would have it, they were not together. This just meant that his job would be a little more difficult. The first target, then, would be Destro. He was on the target range.

  
  


Now the leader of the Dreadnoks had never claimed to be a religious man, but on this day he couldn't help but offer the slightest of prayers to whatever deity it was that governed the way the chips were falling. As luck had it, the target range was nearly empty. Six people, all firing blanks at targets and wearing ear protection. He figured he could easily take out three of them before anyone noticed. By the time any of them could get to the silent alarms he might have another one down, which meant that he had to somehow eliminate the remaining two before they could do just that.

  
  


Some kind of gas canister would do the trick, but that wasn't really Flint's style, and Zartan could not afford to have his cover blown by someone going through the video tapes. The logical suspect would be him. No. Flint would go barreling in, weapons blazing and fists swinging. It might work too, if the deities were still watching over him. He wondered briefly who the patron saint of thieves was and crept closer to the air vent. He'd aim for the two that were the closest, standing virtually side by side.

  
  


But the gods were fickle that day. By chance one of the Cobra soldiers decided that he had had enough of the shooting. His aim was awful and he really didn't want Destro to see that. As he shouldered his gun he caught a glimpse of the air grate popping out and Flint jumping down. Quickly he pointed his gun and fired, catching Flint even as his foot connected with another soldier's skull. The Joe growled something and produced a grenade, yanked the pin, and lobbed the grenade into the middle of the training grounds. By this point, however, everyone else had managed to turn around and began firing wildly into the smoke that was rising swiftly from the shell.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The five Cobra soldiers who had been with Destro would be found later, bound and gagged behind the targets. They were all in shock and confused on how they had been defeated so easily. The first man that had fallen suffered severe concussions and would never again hold a gun. He made it about three meters from the Terrordrome before one of his mates was sent to silence him. Destro himself, though, was nowhere to be found.

  
  


But no one knew about that, not yet. Zartan had been brutally efficient in his job, dodging the hail of blanks and deftly knocking out his opponents. Destro had nearly made it to the door when the mercenary found him. A mild electrical shock to his mid-section and he too was out like a used lightbulb. Zartan bound him as well and left him in the air vents while he went for the bigger fish: Cobra Commander.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Major Bludd. You've returned. I trust that your mission was every bit the success that you said it would," Cobra Commander hissed as his aide walked into the room. The Major was about to answer when the door burst open. The guards that had been guarding it were unceremoniously tossed inside as Flint made his presence known. "What is the meaning of this?" the Commander demanded.

  
  


"You're under arrest, Cobra Commander. Come with me quietly and maybe the courts will go easy on you," Flint replied.

  
  


"You think me undefended? Major Bludd, take care of this intruder," Cobra Commander said, gesticulating wildly.

  
  


Flint sidestepped the Major's first lunge and countered with an elbow to the small of his back. Major Bludd turned on his heel and lashed out with a kick. Again Flint gained the upper hand in the combat by catching the foot in one hand and pulling forward. The Cobra agent stumbled into Flint's waiting fist. "You were saying, snake breath?"

  
  


Cobra Commander gawked at the ineptitude of his finest men before turning and running toward the nearest exit. Flint easily caught up to him and knocked him unconscious.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Getting one prisoner to his cleverly concealed barge would have proven difficult, but carrying two such prisoners, through the air vents no less, to the aforementioned barge was even more challenging than Zartan would care to admit. The promise of a life of freedom was too alluring though, and it aided his every step, his every instinct and desire to just drop the bodies and run. But he made it, both to the barge and then to freedom.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Zarana heard the knock on the door. It was Zartan's traditional knock, but she still had to make sure. "What's the password then?" she asked through the wood.

  
  


"Buzzer is a monkey's uncle," came the sarcastic response.

  
  


"Close enough. What took you so long? When are the Joes getting here?" she asked, opening the door to admit her brother. He deposited the two still unconscious bodies on the nearest bed and sat down on a chair.

  
  


"They'll be here any moment. Don't you worry," he replied.

  
  


"Well I don't like having them around. Makes my skin crawl it does."

  
  


"Patience. There they are now. They must be desperate to see the commander."

  
  


Zarana turned and looked out the window. A truck, flanked by six tanks and with an air escort approached. Flint, along with a few others, emerged. While the others carried the prisoners to the truck Flint stood in front of the siblings.

  
  


"We've cleared your record. You are now free to assume whatever identity you please without G. I. Joe harassment. In the event that you are seen helping Cobra or any other terrorist organization, all bets are off. Understood?" Flint asked.

  
  


"Clearly. It's been a pleasure doing business with you," Zartan replied, as Flint left. "But do you understand what you've gotten yourself into?"


End file.
